I’ve been cleaning out our dining room closet because the dining room is being sold as a bedroom and no one keeps weird tablecloths and expired cleaning products in their bedroom closet. (I guess I can’t really speak for No One. All I can say is that the imaginary toddler who will be residing in our dining room (on a princess bed!) will not have tablecloths and chemicals in her closet. (I’ve named the imaginary toddler Winnie.))
Yesterday I found the Christmas cards we received in 2004. It was VERY difficult to decide which ones to recycle. In the end, I kept only the cards from friends and family members who are no longer with us, as well as a card from Stew because I have a funny feeling it may be worth a million dollars some day. We won’t sell it for a million, but it will be nice knowing that we have a Christmas card that can pay the girls’ way through college and beyond.
This is Stew. (This song could have been written about me if my life in the early 90s was slightly exaggerated and deemed worthy of a song.)
Anyway, I revisited cards from many of you, and: Merry Christmas 2004. Some of you aren’t married anymore. Some of you no longer have hair. A lot can happen in a decade. A lot can happen in a DAY!
(I also found a size 2 thong with tags still attached. It was in a ceramic box that said, “Been looking for love, and then came you.”)
I found the card I made for Jeff in August of 2002.
I quickly posted it onto Facebook, and a few people didn’t notice that it was from 2002, and I received a congratulatory e-mail, and it felt really weird, considering I had a hysterectomy six weeks ago. At the same time, I’ll never again be congratulated for growing an actual baby, so one last spin wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
The inside of our house has been painted and we have new carpeting in the basement. We’ve been filling the driveway with stuff we no longer want and we’ve watched people pull up and dig through our old stuff, sometimes filling their cars with things like tiny plastic chairs and yard polo sets. (Last night a man pulled up and took Jeff’s old home brew kit along with some unused beer bottles. Jeff talked to him about where to find supplies, and BAM! There’s a new beer brewer in town, and his name is John.) ((Have I mentioned that I haven’t had a drink since February 6th? (I probably have six lady drinks per year. Now that I’ve made the personal connection between alcohol and migraines, my red-faced days are over.)))
Anyway. I’m overwhelmed. We have so much stuff and nowhere to put it. I spend the days moving things from place to place and Sisyphus comes to mind.
10 thoughts on “We’re looking at three houses tomorrow.”
Never, ever get rid of that card.
Again, I say this: why are you not marketing your drawings? They’re adorable.
May the house of your dreams appear before your bleary eyes first thing tomorrow, and may the owners of your own house stop by with stars in their eyes! Good weekend, Pudding Family :-)
Duuude, welcome to The Wagon. If you find an acceptable non-alcoholic substitute for dirty vodka martinis (besides just chugging olive brine right out of the jar, because ALREADY TRIED IT), lemme know. I am not at all tempted to start drinking again given the way alcohol makes me feel now, but that is the one that gets me. I miss ice-cold extra-dirty vodka martinis SO MUCH.
I was thinking yesterday, gee Angie hasn’t posted a Fluidpudding lately, I guess my PSM is working.
You’ll fill up a bigger house in no time!
I’m so excited!
I’m using exclamation marks!
I think we spend about 90% of our waking hours moving things from one place to another: food from the store/garden to the kitchen to the stove to our bodies, knowledge from books/newspapers/websites into our brains, papers/emails from our inbox to our outbox, not to mention stuff from stores to our houses to the garbage. Not that this signifies anything; it was just a thought I had.
Sisyphus has been a close personal friend of mine for a long time, and it’s so lovely to know he gets around like that. You should see our attic. We are *never* moving.
I love, love, love the card you gave Jeff announcing preggers.
I’m glad you discovered an alcohol/migraine connection. I guess it doesn’t affect everyone that way, but knowing that there is at least one thing you can actually control to mitigate a migraine is good. I don’t personally get headaches, but my husband has migraines and had to give up his home brewing of beer years ago when he realized how much it hurt to practice that hobby. He never liked wine, rarely drank harder stuff, but loved good beer till it became not worth it.
I think Isabella Golightly is my new best friend. I don’t have an attic or a basement, but I have a garage. We are NEVER moving. But I look forward to enjoying watching you do it.
I had a hysterectomy 2 years ago. Friday I had a (negative! surprise) pregnancy test because I was having surgery and they test every woman and didn’t tell me it was a pregnancy test and they didn’t ask if it were physically impossible for me to be pregnant. Interesting moment. I hope they don’t bill for it as that would be rather silly.
I love putting stuff on the end of the drive and seeing how long it sits there and who comes by and picks it up. I’m always positive that no one on earth is going to want that old leather couch or that desk chair with a broken wheel. But there’s always someone out there that does want those things.
Congratulations on your miracle hysterectomy baby. That can be read in a number of ways.
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